Colton's Lethal Reunion (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

“It was a long shot,” she told him, “but thanks for checking.” And then, “Do you have time to make a stop before we head up the mountain?” she added, forcing herself to keep her mind on business. Not on cataloging every aspect of Rafe in her vehicle, storing up memories for the new future she was building for herself.

“I’m yours for the rest of the day,” he said, and her stomach tumbled an immediate response. Or her heart did.

“What’s up?” He’d reached for the second sandwich. Was already taking a bite. She took another bite of hers, too, thinking it suddenly tasted better.

“I did some checking this morning. The black car that met with Odin Rogers...it came back as having been totaled. And the vehicle you described coming after you last night—there hasn’t been a sign of it, not on any security cameras in town or in Mountain Valley, either. So I’m thinking, maybe Rogers has access to a junkyard, and has his guys take vehicles from there. It’s smart, really. No way to trace them, and if they do come up on a database, like the black one did, it’s a dead end. No owner to question. I’d like to take a run out to the junkyard just to take a look. To see if my theory is even possible. And if we get really lucky, maybe we’ll find last night’s vehicle. Maybe not. But I wanted you with me because you’re the only one who could identify it if it’s there. At the very least we can get some pictures of what vehicles are there and see if any of them disappear. Or show up behind us...”

He was grinning at her. And her insides belly flopped again.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re impressive,” he told her. “And... I’m sure this is going to sound crazy, considering the fact that I was run off the road and shot at last night...but I’m enjoying this. Working with you.”

She nodded. Smiled.

Turned a corner.

And reminded herself that he was a rich dude on a week-long onetime thrill ride, like guys who took dude ranch vacations. He wasn’t signing on for life.

Chapter 20

“I do have some good news.” Rafe was feeling better than he had all morning. About himself. About life. The ham sandwich was a decent stand-in for the dessert he’d missed in order to be ready to meet Kerry. They had a whole day together ahead of them. And he’d heard from Jason.

“What’s that?” She drove, chewed and looked so beautiful he could hardly swallow for a second. Her hair was pulled back again, but he’d had those silky auburn tresses tangled around his arms just hours before.

“I heard from my private detective,” he told her, glad he’d had good news to top the bad. Glad that he’d opted to wait to call her about Dr. Hansen until he’d heard from the PI, just in case. The stars were aligning. “Odin Rogers legally changed his name,” he said, quite pleased with his information, because he knew she would be. “He’s the one who named himself after a Norse god. Until he was eighteen, he was Burt Rogers.”

“The Big B!” Kerry swerved for a brief second as she glanced at him, but quickly righted the vehicle. “Oh my God, Rafe. You know what this means...” Dropping the last couple of bites of her sandwich in the cellophane, she tossed it back into the bag.

“It means that you’re probably right. That the only thing Tyler feared was Odin Rogers.”

“He knew too much,” she said. “Look what’s been happening to us and we’ve just been getting close.”

“I’m guessing that Grant Alvin knew too much, too,” Rafe said, sobering completely as he thought about the man who’d died that week. He’d been a jerk, but that didn’t mean he deserved to die.

The thought served to remind him that as good as he felt, being with Kerry, they weren’t playing a game. Lives were at stake: his and hers.

* * *

They took a lot of pictures at the junkyard. But saw no sign of the vehicle that had driven him off the road the night before. Kerry still got in a couple of them, opened glove boxes, consoles, looked under the seats, and then around bumpers. After about the fifth rusted trash heap, she stood up, keys dangling in her hand. A car ready to go at a moment’s notice.

“If we turn this puppy on, I bet we’ll find a full tank of gas sitting in it,” she said, and started up the motor.

Sure enough, the car sprang to life. She snapped a photo, turned the car off and suggested they get the hell out of there before someone came looking.

Not unhappy to be leaving the symbol of life’s failures, Rafe hurried with her back to her Jeep. Wanting to take her hand and run, like they had as kids, trying to get away from something or another. He couldn’t remember what. But he bet Kerry would have.

More and more, Rafe was seeing just how good she was at her job. And at other things, too. Like being a hardworking employee. A dedicated community member. And a loyal friend for life.

Dare he hope that they’d find a way to stay in touch? To see each other now and then, as friends?

Hell, with his money he could afford to stay with her in Tucson’s most luxurious resort every weekend.

Or fly to Italy for an evening of authentic pasta.

Or...

His phone rang just as she was starting the Jeep. Marlowe.